


Who says gifts have to be sentimental?

by alaana_fair



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Birthday, Bottom!Harry, M/M, PWP, Rimming, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-12
Updated: 2011-08-12
Packaged: 2017-10-22 13:36:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/238605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alaana_fair/pseuds/alaana_fair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Harry's 19th birthday, and Draco has a surprise for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who says gifts have to be sentimental?

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I am not JKR. I receive no monetary gain from this story. I make no claim to any of the characters and mean no offence by any actions they take. All characters depicted in sexual situations are above the age of consent.  
>  **Beta:** dysonrules

****

"Draco, we'll be late."

"The party's not for another hour." Draco ran his hand along Harry's ribs, his lips sliding against the curve of Harry's neck. He loved the way Harry smelled fresh from the shower. It was intoxicating.

"Hermione will kill us both if I'm late to my own party." Harry's words came out in a mumbled whisper, which Draco knew meant he was only protesting on principle.

"She wouldn't dare kill you on your birthday." Draco tugged at Harry's towel and it fell to the floor. "Besides, I have gift for you."

"Really?" Draco felt Harry shiver as he flicked his tongue out and ran it along the shell of his ear. Draco had realised early on that Harry had a bit of an ear fetish. Among other things.

"Why so surprised?" Draco pulled away and looked into bright green eyes. "Did you not think I would get you a gift?"

"Well, no." Harry frowned. "It's just that... you're not exactly the sentimental type."

"Who says gifts have to be sentimental?" Draco asked, resuming the slow, torturous kisses along Harry's slightly damp skin.

"Parties are overrated, anyway," Harry finally conceded, tugging Draco's freshly pressed shirt from his trousers. "Does my gift have anything to do with my cock in your mouth?"

Draco grinned against Harry's neck, the butterflies in his stomach doing a little dance. "I have a brilliant plan," he whispered against the shell of Harry's ear. He was still a bit nervous, which was entirely ludicrous. He and Harry had been together for almost a year and had lived together for the last three months. They'd had sex in every room of the flat and in every imaginable position. But there was one thing they'd talked about that Draco hadn't had the nerve to do. Something he knew Harry wanted. Desperately.

Harry ignored the buttons on Draco's shirt in favour of pulling it over his head, his hands gliding along Draco's chest. "Since when do we need a plan to have sex?" he asked curiously.

"Er..." Draco could feel his cheeks heat and knew he was blushing like a bloody virgin. He took a deep breath and laid his hands over Harry's to still their movement. "I was thinking we could... you know... do... _that_."

Harry's brows knitted together for a moment before realisation dawned. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again before a low, _"oh"_ ," came out. "Are you... I mean... if you don't want—"

"I do," Draco added quickly before he lost his nerve. Harry took in a deep, shuddering breath. The look of desire in his eyes almost made Draco's knees weak. "I do," he repeated, his heart pounding absurdly.

"All right, then." Harry's fingers trembled as they worked at Draco's belt and zip. He laughed and shook his head. "Bloody hell, you'd think we were both virgins again."

Draco chuckled as he shoved his trousers and pants off and kicked them into the corner. "Let's hope this goes better than _that_ did."

Harry leaned forward, his lips brushing the crook of Draco's neck. "It wasn't that bad," he whispered.

"Yes, it was," Draco added with a slight laugh.

"Okay, it was, but it got much better with practise, now didn't it?"

"Gods, yes," Draco answered, and it was the understatement of the century. Better didn't even _begin_ to express it. Just the thought made Draco's cock twitch.

Harry grinned as though he knew exactly what Draco was thinking. He took Draco's hand and led him to the bed, sprawling out on his stomach with his legs slightly parted. The man was beyond gorgeous; his olive skin standing out in stark contrast against the crisp white duvet.

Draco climbed onto the bed, his knees between Harry's thighs, and ran his hands along Harry's firm arse. Harry keened and arched up at the touch, which sent the butterfly's in Draco's stomach careening around in a tailspin.

"Please, Draco. Do it."

Draco had never heard such pleading in Harry's tone before, such raw desperation. It made his cock ache. He leaned down and swiped his tongue lightly against Harry's hole. It tasted... like skin, which was unexpected. Harry had been hinting at this for ages, but Draco had resisted, the mere thought making his cock flaccid on several occasions. It had always seemed wrong and dirty – unbecoming of a Malfoy. But it was Harry's birthday, and Draco thought he could stop being a selfish prat for at least a day.

"You like it?" Draco asked, feeling an unusual need for reassurance. This was uncharted territory, after all.

"Merlin, _yes_ ," Harry whimpered, pushing his arse up and spreading his cheeks with his hands. His fingertips touched Draco's and Draco pushed his hands away, spreading Harry open wide as if for the whole world to see. The rush of heat that flooded him at the sight was surprising. He leaned forward and licked once more, longer this time, and with more pressure. Harry whimpered again, a mumbled _yes, Gods, yes_ encouraging Draco onward. His cock responded unexpectedly. Experimentally he pressed his tongue inside, eliciting a noise that almost sounded like a kitten purring. _Fuck_ if he'd known Harry would respond like this he would have done this months ago.

After a minute, he seemed to have a system which had Harry writhing against the duvet like a wounded snake. It was just about the hottest thing Draco could imagine. Harry's hole was slick with Draco's saliva, loose and practically begging for his tongue. Draco's heart was hammering against his chest and his cock was unbearably hard, and he had no idea why he'd fought this for so long. He no longer cared if it was unbecoming or not, because every swipe of his tongue seemed to turn Harry into a slippery mass of putty in his hands.

He finally pulled away to drink in the sight before him. Harry's face was buried into the pillow, his fingers clenching the covers tightly. His wet, slippery arse was jutting up in the air for the taking and _holy fuck_ just when he thought the man couldn't possibly get any sexier he turned his flushed face and looked over his shoulder at Draco with shuttered eyes and begged to be fucked. It wasn't the asking, or even the begging, that hit Draco hard in the chest. It was the complete look of trust, of adoration, of _need_ that did it. The look that told Draco he was wanted, and cherished, and _loved_ \-- that this wasn't a passing fancy or curious phase – and Draco realised just how hard he'd fallen for Harry Potter, of all people. He swallowed around the lump in his throat and fumbled for the wand he'd thrown on the bed earlier. As slick as Harry was, he doubted it would be enough, and he never, _ever_ wanted to hurt Harry again.

He waved his wand with the passing thought of how outraged his father would be that this was the first and only spell Draco could manage wordlessly. The thought dissipated as quickly as it had come, though, when Harry mewled like a kitten and arched his arse higher. "Today would be good," Harry mumbled, his face once again buried into the pillow.

No further prodding was necessary. Draco lined his cock up with Harry's slick hole and pressed just the head in. Shallow thrusts always drove Harry a bit mad, and Draco feared if he pressed in all the way he'd come before Harry had the chance to enjoy it. Of course, the stupid Gryffindor was having none of that and pressed back, raising himself up on his elbows for leverage. Draco bit his lip hard, grabbing Harry's hips to hold him steady.

"Fuck, Harry." It came out more of a groan than as words, but Harry must have understood because he chuckled, deep in his chest.

"That's the general idea, yes," he said, and Draco thought he sounded entirely too cheeky for a man who'd been completely incoherent moments before.

Thankfully, it was enough of a distraction to keep him from coming, though. He slammed into Harry with enough force to unbalance him and he landed back on the pillow with a whoosh and another chuckle. "Better?" Draco asked, pulling all the way out and slamming in again, repeatedly until the sound of blood rushing in his ears drowned out Harry's kittenish mewls. He leaned forward pressing his forehead against Harry's back until he felt he could breathe again.

"Happy birthday," he whispered, placing a gentle kiss between Harry's shoulder blades. Harry wiggled, and Draco rolled off, his cock slipping out of Harry with a messy squelch. Harry rolled to his side, a wandless wave cleaning up the mess he'd left on Draco's favourite duvet.

Harry stared at him for a moment before his mouth curved into a slow smile. His fingers trailed through Draco's hair, and he leaned forward to place a tender kiss on Draco's lips. "It might be a bit hard to top this one next year. No pun intended."

Draco grinned. He should probably start planning for that now.

~fin~


End file.
